


Heavy Hearts

by NelwynP



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/M, I tried to make the science realistic, Magic and Science, Mistaken Identity, Silver Millenium, foot-in-mouth disease, probably not as scifi as desired but points for effort please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NelwynP/pseuds/NelwynP
Summary: Nephrite pulls some strings to partake in specialized military training on Jupiter's surface.
Relationships: Kino Makoto/Nephrite
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19
Collections: Senshi x Shitennou Holiday 2020 Gift Exchange





	Heavy Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TQnowords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TQnowords/gifts).



> Written as part of the Senshi x Shitennou Holiday Exchange 2020, I received the prompts "Moonlight" and "Silver Millenium". SilMil is such a fantastic era to play around with, and I got a bit distracted by the science-side of what things might be like on the other planets. Elmund, I'm sorry this is late and I hope you enjoy!

The descent to the surface of Jupiter took two full days. Between the neverending storms in the swirling atmosphere and the increasing pressure on both the ship and body, the planet’s gravity demanded its pound of flesh. Frequent breaks were required for visitors and natives alike to acclimatize to the difference.The regimented cocktail of drugs he took daily was designed to bolster his body to withstand the additional strain on bones and organs, but it did little to address the associated pain that came with such drastic changes. It was agonizing, but the intense gravity of the gas giant and the training that took place there was part of what made the Jovian’s military the strongest warriors in the system. Nephrite ground his teeth against the pain and reminded himself that he had specifically requested this training, and somehow was privileged enough to receive it, despite being from outside the Silver Alliance. The amount of strings pulled, favors cashed, and bribes promised to allow this “cultural exchange” of battle techniques to take place still gave Nephrite a headache to think about. No pussying out now.

Even with the advanced technology provided by the Lunars and their court the travel time to Jupiter still took nearly three weeks, though messages could be beamed at only a six hour delay. Nephrite had been granted a small cabin aboard one of the standard Jovian carrier shuttle that ferried trainees to and from the planetside bases. It was only a minor step above the bunks the rest of the crew shared, but it did provide a small window, an even smaller washroom, and most importantly a bit of privacy. 

The intercom buzzed to life and the familiar voice of the junior diplomatic aide assigned to him crackled through the static. “Your Excellency, we’re approaching the dome. Please prepare yourself for landing.” The com cut out without bothering to wait for a reply. Nephrite suppressed the curl of his lip at the young aide’s obsequious insistence at calling him by his noble title instead of his military one - perhaps the youth was truly trying to be courteous and avoid a diplomatic incident, but it felt like just another snub about how the Alliance regarded the Terran military ranks. A familiar thorn, but Nephrite knew well enough to play his part politely instead of strangling the kid. It wasn’t his fault. Probably.

The chair with the landing straps faced the small port window, affording him what little view there was as he strapped in for the final docking sequence. Through the small opening all he could see from the window were the swirling clouds of red and orange, punctuated by flashes of blue lightning. He knew that there was a core to the gas giant, and that eventually they must reach it, but he thought to at least be able to see it before they landed.

The landing was rough as the ship settled and released the thrusters. Without the powerful pushback from the engines the full strength of the planet’s pull dragged on every fiber of his being. “Be careful with your first steps,” a crewman warned with a barely concealed chuckle as the airlocks opened. Nephrite nodded dismissively, but as he took his first steps from the craft he could feel his bones creaking with each step and it took all of his concentration not to fall forward onto his knees retching. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground to help orient his sense of balance, and did not notice the Jovian aide flit to his side until he was offered a cane. His spirits soured at this obvious anticipation of his discomfort, but he was not above the assistance and dourly took the sturdy piece of wood. Though frustration boiled beneath his skin, his body leaned gratefully upon the support and he was able to ease his focus from maintaining balance to observing the training dome.

The dome was made of Lunar crystal, so far above them that it would have been impossible to see were it not for the distinct way the hydrogen and helium rain swirled and flowed across its surface, making eddies and whorls like an abstract painting or underwater seascape. He also noted the Mercurian temperature drones twinkling through the air like stars, keeping the surface just barely below the level of heat that a body could tolerate. He was quickly regretting the layers in his diplomatic attire, and noted as a squad of Jovians trotted past in formation that their uniform accomodated for the heat. There was no leather or metal armor, nor even heavy padding. Soldiers instead wore pleated linen kilts, dyed a mossy green. A woven corset of cotton in a matching color offered slightly more protection while still allowing the skin to breathe. At Lunar gravity standard, the Jovians were known to move at such high speed that getting a hit on them was rare luck. Nephrite decided instantly that he would need to acquire a similar uniform during his stay if he wasn’t to succumb to heatstroke.

“Would Your Lordship care to have a tour of the facilities, or shall I show you to your quarters? We have a pressure bath set up for you to use as long as you like while your body adjusts.” He hated how weak it made him - and by extension, other Terrans - look, but the sweet temptation of the pressure bath was too alluring. As though reading his mind, the Jovian delegate hovered uncomfortably close and assured him, “it is very common to experience pressure illness on the surface. Even visitors from the outer planets, who also have higher gravity, struggle with the enormity of our giant goddess.” He smiled fondly, eyes drinking in the swirling atmosphere above them. “Even her children are cowed each time we come down to train. We do not judge. Though it is often a point of personal pride to cut down on your adjustment period. The record for a first time visit so far has been three days.” Nephrite could hear the challenge in the casually spoken information, or perhaps he just took the challenge onto himself. He certainly didn’t believe that there was no judgement to be had.

The aide led him across the base to the barracks. All the off-world training participants were housed separately from the rest, and while the rational side of his brain understood that trainees needed to be housed together to help build unit cohesion and that even amongst allies each military group maintained their own secrets, the emotional side that took umbrage at every slight thrown at him during this journey bristled in irritation that he was once more being kept on the outside. The only mollification was that his bunk was with other off-world officers. At least now his rank was being acknowledged in some small part.

The quarters were large enough to hold 10 officers, though at the moment the only other visiting officials to the surface besides himself were a Martian colonel and Mercurian captain. They appeared to be in the middle of some cards when the Jovian aide dropped him off, and only gave him a cursory nod of acknowledgement as he entered before turning back to the game. He made his way to a bunk that was appropriately distanced from the other dignitaries without being isolated, then took a moment to survey the quarters. As promised, a bank of isolation tanks lined the far wall of the room, along with tall shelves neatly arranged with a wide variety of medications and additives to doctor the baths.

His muscles burned angrily from overuse and strain, and he ladeled a generous amount of soothing salts and oils into the water of one of the tanks as a silent apology for all their hard work. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and eased into the bath with relief. The buoyancy of the water brought his weight closer to that back home and lessened the drag of the gravity. Hooking the breathing tubes over his nose and mouth, he sank gratefully beneath the surface of the bath to be alone with his thoughts. Between travel exhaustion, the tranquilizing effects of the medicines in the water, and the sensory deprivation within the tank, Nephrite soon fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next day he discovered his aide was replaced by another; a short and staunch corporal whose prolonged time on the planet’s surface had thickened his muscles into bulging chords that rippled beneath his skin. Undeterred by his bulky form, the corporal moved with energetic ease as he led Nephrite on tour after tour of the Jovian base. Nephrite shuffled behind him, his body an unfamiliar weight still. His new escort made no comment on the delays, instead taking the extra time to engage in barracks banter. The corporal was definitely more soldier than diplomat and Nephrite liked him almost immediately. So he politely endured the pomp and circumstance of his diplomatic duties, but felt his impatience simmer. A barracks was a barracks, regardless of the planet. He was not here to observe, he was here to learn and participate. Yet he could not do so until his body cooperated. Despite his mental determination, it was nearly five days before he could walk the dome for more than a few hours without the assistance of the cane. Each night was spent soaking in the pressure tank, but years of pushing his body to its limits paid off and his recovery was swifter than the Jovians expected. By the third day he was moving more normally, and so the corporal eased off of the formal escorts and allowed him a respectable amount of freedom to explore the base on his own. 

The thing that bothered him the most about being on the core was the way it messed with his sense of time. The sunlight never pierced through the thousands of kilometers of gas, therefore neither did the stars. The lights around the dome were primarily artificial, though the constant chemical reactions and storming in the atmosphere provided their own unique light show. He missed hearing the stars. Though the base kept standard Lunar time, which was nearly identical to Terran time, he still found himself waking at odd hours. That was when he wandered the grounds, and that was when he first encountered her.

He wasn’t quite sure how he found his way into one of the more secluded training arenas but there he was and there also, oblivious to his intrusion, was she. She wore nearly the same training gear as the other Jovians he had encountered, though her kilt had an added front of stiffened linen embroidered with a whorled design that, were he to look closer, resembled the orbital patterns of the gas giant’s many satellites. Around her hips hung a studded belt, and a thin golden headband crossed her forehead. The woman paced herself through a variety of stretches and practice moves, but whereas the movements of other soldiers he’d watched felt regimented and clipped, hers flowed like the infinite clouds in the sky above her. Though she was tall and well muscled, she moved with a dancer's grace. Her mahogany hair was pulled into a tight bun at the crown of her head, but curls escaped in a cloudlike halo, softening the severity in her expression as she focused.

Perhaps it was minutes, perhaps it was hours, but he watched her in a trance. It was subtle at first, but his senses prickled and he began to notice- the storm in the heavens raged stronger each time the power in her movements increased. Was she mirroring the storm, or the storm mirroring her? Lightning danced across the dome, and he swore he could hear it’s crackle even from this distance. The dome would certainly hold under such a tempest, wouldn’t it? And yet, he could not help the startled cry that ripped from him when suddenly, the woman on the field executed a powerful finishing movement that coincided precisely with a flash of white hot lightning so bright he had to shield his eyes. When he lowered his arm, he was astonished to see that the ground surrounding her was charred, as though struck by the lightning though the dome held sturdy above them. And the woman, her exercises complete, was staring straight at him.

“Yes? Can I help you?” she demanded, snapping the towel from the rack much like it sounded she would like to snap his neck. “Who gave you permission to be here?”

He supposed he should feel chastened for stumbling into a space where he was clearly not meant to belong, but his pride bristled at her tone. Pulling himself into his most diplomatic posture, he slowly made his way down the steps to the arena. She watched his movements with the scrutinizing alertness of a predator watching its next meal blunder willingly into clearly marked territory. Every hobbled step made him feel exposed under her glare. When he reached her, he gave a shallow bow of formality and introduced himself with a static dispassion, emphasizing his diplomatic rank and credentials. As he expected, her combative demeanor softened upon the realization that he was not Jovian. 

Her lips curled shrewdly. “A Terran General, how unique. Hadn’t I heard that Terrans were adept at mastering many languages, given how many different linguistic branches exist on your planet?”

That pleased him. “That is correct, I am versed in over a dozen of the languages from my planet, in addition to the planetary languages of the Alliance. Well learned, Private….?” he prompted, fishing for her name and rank.

“Druiza. You may call me Dru.” she inclined her head slightly instead of bowing, playfulness shining in her eyes. “It’s a shame you only learned to speak the languages, and not read them also. Or is that just Terran civility, to ignore postings marking this arena as off-limits?”

Her barbs struck sharp and true, but the good-natured crinkle of her eyes quelled his indignant anger. He let it go with a spread his hands and shrugged noncommittally. 

“There are certain diplomatic arrangements that facilitate my visit to your fine planet.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate on whether that included potential trespassing or not. His mind circled back to the training routine he just witnessed, replaying what he saw with critical captivation. “That was a fascinating routine that you were practicing. I would be honored to learn some of the basic steps. Perhaps you could teach me.”

She chuckled, a deep and rich sound that reminded him of a summer storm brewing in the distance. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“If it’s a matter of other commitments, I’m sure I could speak to your superiors on the matter, “ he persisted. “You can see I have a fair amount of political sway. My connections go all the way to the royal family themselves.”

The chuckle turned into a full guffaw, her whole body shaking in delight. Her reaction was not what he expected, but he held fast to his story while he waited for a response. Dru wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and shook her head.

“My training is done for today, and it looks like you are just starting to overcome your gravity adjustment.” her eyes fell to his cane, which he was starting to lean heavily upon by this time of the day. Arrogantly he attempted to lessen his grip, but the shaking in his knees became too much and white-knuckled and grim he slumped back onto the support. Her discerning look observed all of this keenly, but instead of the mockery he anticipated she seemed pleased by his efforts.

“How long have you been on Jupiter’s surface now?” she asked, curious. When he told her the pleased look on her face colored with a sheen of admiration. “Impressive, General. Most off-worlders are at least 10 days to be as upright as you are.” She chewed her lip as she thought, an action that he found surprisingly distracting, before giving a curt and decisive nod. “Very well, let’s see how fast you learn. Tomorrow. You’re in no shape to learn anything new today.” 

“I look forward to it. Shall I contact your superior officer to make arrangements?”

“No need, save your favors for bigger things. Meet me at Leda Field tomorrow after lunch duties.” She threw the towel and a jaunty wave over her shoulder at him and retreated to the lockers. Satisfied with his diplomatic negotiations, he hobbled gratefully back to his quarters.

When he reached the officer quarters, the Martian was packing his belongings to ship back off-world. He nodded to Nephrite. “Delivery for you on the table.” Intrigued, Nephrite plucked the note from the top of the nondescript box laid out. 

_Try these in your pressure bath tonight._ _They should help with muscle recovery. I don’t want to embarrass Your General Excellency TOO much tomorrow. --Dru_

Enclosed were some oils and salts he did not recognize, but were clearly high-end. He briefly wondered how a low ranking soldier might come upon such things on such a tightly regimented base, but it stood to reason that all women desired some sort of pampering. He was not above pampering himself, and gratefully dumped the contents into the bath before hooking up his breathing tubes and settling in for the evening.

The next day he made his way to the training grounds she had directed him to. Leda Field was named for one of the smaller satellites and reflected the ranks of those who practiced there - new recruits, low ranking service members and off-worlders. She wasn’t there yet, but there were a few other soldiers running through training exercises. Most were Jovian, but he did see a few uniforms from some of the other planets mixed in to the group. He was the only Terran. He found a corner and began going through a basic warm-up. Some time passed and he began to worry that she had been leading him on, for she was still nowhere in sight. The other soldiers ignored him.

He knew the moment Dru arrived on the field. The other soldiers in the field paused as she glided past, offering up friendly greetings, playful jokes, or respectful salutes. Nephrite watched her attentively, trying to make sense of the breadcrumbs she dropped. She appeared at ease among the infantry and trained on their field, but was saluted like a superior and had access to the private training facilities as well. She did not appear to fit into any notions he understood about the Jovian military structure. When she finally reached him she had a predatory smile on her face. Did she plan on destroying him, or devouring him? Curiously, he rather felt he would enjoy either option. He let himself enjoy her gaze, and offered another appreciative one for her in return. 

“Looking better today, I see. You’re adapting well.”

“I must thank you for the specialty treatment, I had a very restorative night. ”  Dru waved off the gratitude and instead led him to the sparring circle and bid him demonstrate a basic attack sequence. Though he could perform the basic sequences from all the planets in his sleep, under her emerald eyes he became suddenly self-conscious. A deep breath suppressed the emotion and he let muscle memory guide his movement. At first his body trembled against the gravity of the planet, his movements slow and concentrated, but as the rhythm fell into place his speed increased. She circled him like vulture, silent except for the occasional demand to widen his stance, or lean farther forward, or follow through with a punch. These were barked at him with a clipped authority that he hadn’t endured since his early days as a private. After only one routine, he could feel the strain on his heart and a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. 

“You don’t mince your words,” he commented dryly between gulps of air as he caught his breath. “Most soldier’s wouldn’t speak to a superior officer in such a tone, much less a diplomatic visitor.”

“I never told you my rank. You’re bold to make such assumptions, when you are the one that asked me to teach you my techniques.” she shot back with a spark. She was quick to pick up on his probe, but he realized she was right. He had been making assumptions based on his prior knowledge. The only women he’d met in the Terran army were in support roles, not officers. Very well, if subtlety wouldn’t work, he would be direct.

“You make a fair point. So what is your rank?”

She sidestepped the question and, putting her hands on her hips, shot back with her own. “You seem pretty caught up in titles and rankings. Are you too proud to be seen here, to work your way up from the bottom like every other soldier on this base?” her tone was lilting but caustic. “Yesterday I thought you were a true warrior, not a soft bureaucrat. If I was mistaken and you care more about being called ‘my lord’ than learning some real skills, we can end this here. There are plenty of eager underlings who would love to court your diplomatic favors instead.” 

He thought again of the power he witnessed yesterday, of the scorched earth beneath her feel and the speed and grace she embodied. If he could master even a quarter of what she demonstrated he would consider his time on Jupiter well-spent. 

“A student should not question the teacher. Lead on.”

Pleased with his formal response, she crossed to him and began her instruction in earnest. They spent the rest of the afternoon on the sparring fields, sharing knowledge. Though he bested her in raw strength she outclassed him in speed. Her manners were coarse but her praises sweet, and she punctuated her instruction with crude jokes and sensual flirtations, both of which sent him stumbling in surprise. When at last they finished their cool-down routines, he felt more at ease with her than he had at any point during his visit so far. He extended an invitation to join him for dinner in the officers mess, which she immediately countered with her own invitation to join her in the standard mess hall instead. He agreed, and they parted ways briefly to shower and dress for the meal.

When he arrived in the mess, she was already sitting at a long table with a gaggle of young privates. She was in the middle of some amusing story about time spent among the inner planets, which had the group roaring with laughter. Though her interactions were friendly, she was clearly apart from the group - a mentor, a senior, but not a friend. When she saw him, she waved him over enthusiastically. The other soldiers eyed him dubiously but deferred to her wishes. She made the courteous introductions and moved over so he could sit beside her. Dru carried the conversation magnificently, and he was awarded a few genuine laughs at his attempts at humor. Under her expert and subtle guidance he found for the first time the walls of disregard among the Jovians begin to melt. As the evening wore on, meals were finished and the privates they shared the table with took their leave to do whatever evening activities they had planned. Nephrite and Dru stayed, the conversation flowing easily as though they had been friends for years instead of just meeting the night before.

When at last his body could stand no more, he regretfully bid her good night. She surprised him again by walking with him back to his quarters, and even offering a shoulder to lean against instead of having to rely on the cane. In that moment Nephrite realized he did not want to mess things up with Dru, as his brothers-in-arms back home always accused him of doing. As they walked beneath the swirling storm outside the dome, he chanced an inquiry to the stars. In moments of mystery they had always guided him true, and he felt at a loss of what to do around her. But the storm was too thick, and all he could hear was static. He would have to navigate this relationship on his own.  When they arrived at the officer’s bunk, he found another basket of supplements waiting for him. He gave her a surprised look, which she shrugged off with a smile. A treat, she said, after a hard day’s work. He’d need to be in good form again tomorrow, if they were to continue their training. He did not question her timing, how she managed to get the goods to his room and still beat him to the mess hall. 

After that day, they fell into an easy rhythm. They met in the mornings to train, sampling various cultural techniques like they were fine wines and discussing their qualities like sommeliers. Though he negotiated in top form, she remained insistant that he would be unable to learn the specific maneuvers he had witnessed her perform on their first encounter. They spoke of many things, military and diplomatic, cultural and personal. Dru was unlike any woman he had met before - when he mentioned this in a missive home, Zoisite pragmatically pointed out that there were probably plenty of women like her, but that Nephrite had never bothered to encounter anyone beyond their uses in bed before. Regardless of the criticism, Nephrite found great pleasure in her company. She treated him as an equal, and when that had initially grated his nerves he found himself appreciating the novelty of each encounter. Her wit was as sharp as his own, and her humor equally callous. She did not swoon at his tales of battle but countered with her own. She also did not blush easily, but he found delight in the moments when he caught her off guard enough to have coral paint her cheeks. 

Afternoons he dedicated to his diplomatic duties planetside, which were limited in part by the transmission delay through the turbulent atmosphere and his unique circumstances as a student in this environment. He often wondered what Dru did during this time. He presumbed other training duties, but whenever he asked she never gave a straight answer, turning the question back on him or relaying a joke instead. He quickly learned to stop questioning her if he wished to stay in her good graces. It did not sate his curiosity, 

Once he had mentioned how disconcerting it was to have no discernable way to measure time on the planet without relying on a clock - the lack of sun and stars throwing his senses off balance. She responded by bringing him to a part of the compound he had not seen before - a planetarium type structure but at a typically Jovian scale. Though the projected points of light and simulated darkness did not have voice like he was used to, the image eased a bit of the ache in his heart and mind. It also gave him a bittersweet reminder that his time here was limited. 

The six weeks of training flew by in a whirlwind. Each day he relied on the cane less and less, and the nightly doses of medications for his heart, lungs and muscles were reduced. Through his prolonged interactions and nightly meals with Dru in the mess hall, he was finally able to breach the antipathy of the other Jovians, and actually made a few friends. The other diplomats and officers remained a stodgy bunch, but ultimately he considered his time remarkably well spent. As the time to return to Earth grew closer, Dru became more distant.

“We go to Io at the end of the week,” she commented. “Are you ready to see how your new muscles work in quarter gravity? I’m honestly looking forward to seeing you fall on your face again, it’s been a few weeks since you’ve properly made a fool of yourself.”

“So you’ll be transferring too?” He was surprised but pleased. She had never been forthwrite about what kind of training and operations she was doing on the planet’s surface. 

“Yes, but once we’re there we won’t see each other much anymore.” 

“I keep telling you, I could arrange for something, if you wanted.” It was an old disagreement at this point, he knew she would dodge the invitation or change the topic. He couldn’t understand her resistance. Did she still think he was lying about his influence, or did she not enjoy his company as much as she claimed? So he continued to ask, hoping that she would change her mind. This would not be that time. _I have other duties_ is all she ever said.

“Very well,” he tried to keep the heartbreak from reaching his voice. “Then let's make the most of the time we have left.” she smiled at him, nodded, and took his hand, warm and calloused at his own.

It took a full week for the ascent as opposed to the two it had taken to go down to the surface. The ship was a larger carrier than the shuttle that had brought him down, and after the month of intense gravity strain everyone’s bodies needed more time to adjust back to the Lunar gravitational standard. More medications were required, but the pressure tank was no longer necessary as the gravitational pull of the planet lessened with each passing day. His stomach complained regularly in the mornings and after meals, but other than that the transition was a lot smoother coming up than it was going down.

He was given private quarters again, larger this time with the larger size of the ship. Yet despite the additional space, he felt more claustrophobic than he’d ever felt in his life. Under the dome the atmosphere was ethereal and distant, but within the ship it pressed and screamed at every seam. He prowled the decks, Dru often joining him to offer teasing remarks. At last they breached the exosphere and were once more space-bound. Freed of the turbulent clouds the voices of the stars, previously stifled through the thick atmosphere, crashed over him like a wave breaching a levee. Dru caught him easily as he stumbled in surprise beneath their enthusiastic assault. He eased her concerned look with a quick explanation and together they made their way to the small observation deck of the shuttle where he could see the twinkling points of light and could better make sense of the missives they were pouring into his head. Nephrite hadn’t realized how much he had missed their whispering secrets. A backlog of stories flooded him and he sank into himself to indulge in their tales. 

After that they spent the remaining days of the trip on the viewing platform. Dru was surprised and delighted to learn of his gift, and proceeded to pepper him with questions to ask the stars like he was a common fortune-teller. She, like many, had believed that Terrans were entirely without magic. And while his gifts were not meant to be used in such a trivial manner, her fascination was infectious and so he pampered her curiosity. 

They were on the viewing platform when the ship turned and gave a full view of Io on their final approach. From a distance the volcanic moon was a sight to behold, with the white pinpricks of civilization twinkling through the molten glow of lava. As they neared the surface the lights took form as sprawling cities, filled with lofty buildings and bustling with shuttles. They soared towards the landing pad, which awarded them a grand view of the Jovian palace grounds. Io Palace could be classified as a small township unto itself, crystalline spires threading towards the sky like tree branches and glowing with electric charge. Though he had seen a few of the planetary palaces, it was his first time to Io and he expressed great admiration for the craftsmanship and architecture. Dru, however, went oddly quiet. Perhaps she was humbled by the proximity to the royal family, even through glass and steel. She held his hand tightly until they passed and the palatial estate was no longer in view.

As they readied themselves to disembark the shuttlecraft, Nephrite made a jest about showing off in the arena tomorrow. Dru laughed, a sound that continued to delight him each time, but made no rebuttal nor agreed to meet him there. As the doors opened to the landing platform, she gave him a quick and chaste embrace and bid him farewell. There was a finality in her tone that gnawed at him, but he said nothing as she took hold of one of the many rope guides that criss-crossed the field and walked away. 

He didn't see her for the remaining two weeks on Io. Now that he was in a highly populated area, many of his daily duties swung back towards the diplomatic side so that was not entirely unexpected. Yet on the days he returned to the arenas to hone his new muscles and reflexes, she was nowhere to be found. In fact, none of the troops he had associated with on the surface seemed to be on the base anymore. When he asked around, all he got were confused stares and dubious shakes of heads. It was as though she had vanished once the ship landed. He was confused, disappointed and a little angry. Not that he had any sort of demands on her time, but he really thought that they were at least friends. He wouldn't mind if it was something more either, even if she was Jovian.

Even asking the stars for guidance was more troublesome than usual. Their remarks were habitually cryptic and difficult to decipher, but he could not untangle the mess of messages beyond  _ secrets _ and  _ destiny _ . Very well, if  _ destiny _ had a hand in things he would see where it took him.

It took him to Io Palace. The last day of his training and diplomatic exchange happened to coincide with the coronation ceremony of Princess Melissande. Coronation events among the Alliance were traditionally closed-door affairs, considered sacred for the stellar and godlike gifts the planets bestowed upon their chosen avatars. Yet protocol dictated he receive an invitation, and while propriety might state his obligation to politely decline the invite, there would be an even bigger racket in his refusal. Nephrite loathed the arduous and preposterous rules of diplomacy that would require him to attend a gathering at which he was unwanted.

When he arrived at Io Palace he dragged his feet as much as was allowable, avoiding the forthcoming awkwardness for as long as possible. That’s how he caught sight of her, also making her way slowly towards the court chambers. He recognized her by her gait so familiar after a month of daily trainings, before he recognized her face. He had known from the oils and perfumes she had gifted him that first night that she must have a softer side, but he was caught off guard by what a change it made in her. Her auburn hair, usually tied up in a military tail or bun, cascaded instead over her shoulders in a waterfall of curls. Dainty rose earrings hung from her lobes, and a gossamer green dress floated like a cloud around her hips and clung to her torso, juxtaposing the strong cut of her arms and shoulders with softness.

“Dru,” he called, quickening his pace to catch her. “I thought you’d been shipped off.”

He was taken aback by the look of anguish that crossed her face when she saw him. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here..”

Nephrite rolled his eyes in agreement. “Of that I am fully aware, believe me. The pitfalls of diplomatic relations, I’m afraid. I do recall telling you I had royal connections though. You, on the other hand…” he elbowed her gently, trying to tease her into the camaraderie they shared on the planet. “What is your connection?”

Dru covered her face with her hands and a soft sound escaped between her fingers. He couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a sob, and it sounded frighteningly like both. He began to worry. “Oh, what a mess,” she breathed. Tenderly he reached for her hands to draw them away from her face, concerned at her reaction. She allowed him to do so, but looked anywhere else but at him. “Nephrite, I didn’t mean to hide from you. It was just so much easier, if you didn’t know…”

“Know what?” he prompted, and the answer came not from her but from the universe itself. The whispers of the stars swelled in his head. Surprised by their sudden enthusiasm he dropped her hand and pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes, as though that could do something to stifle the arias that chorused through his skull. He did not want to listen, not now with Dru in front of him trying to tell him something important. He wanted to focus on her, to understand why she looked so sad and fragile now when all he had known of her before was strength, but the clamor in his mind was incredibly distracting. Dru just looked at him, her features unreadable. She seemed unconcerned with the abrupt change in his behavior as he wrestled with his gifts, in fact seeming to anticipate and expect his reaction. Slowly it dawned on him why. She stood framed by the expansive window behind her like a classical painting, Jupiter low and bright on the horizon and cast a golden glow on her skin. Behind the gas giant the silvery shapes of Europa, Ganymede and Callisto came into the tableau, and with their emergence in the night sky the voices of the stars swelled in a near deafening crescendo. The romantic glow of her skin turned ethereal, changing from golden to viridian, her hair bleeding auburn to emerald as the planetary crest appeared and blazed in the center of her forehead.

“It is my coronation,” she murmured, “and I am late.” 

“No,” he argued. His heart refused to acknowledge the sight before his eyes. “The coronation is for Princess Melissande...”

“Melissande Druiza Sincerity Grace.” Dru affirmed with an apologetic smile. “Dru.” She reached to touch his arm, but in his shock he flinched and she pulled her hand away. Her jaw tightened and she nodded once, small and resigned. In a breath she realigned her shoulders and she walked away from him towards the court chambers and in her silhouette Nephrite saw her every inch the regal, ethereal being that she was. Before she opened the door, she turned to him one last time, smiling in a way that shot an arrow through his heart.

“I’m glad I met you before all this,” she said wistfully. “When we meet again in your diplomatic circles, I hope you can remember to see me as more than my title. I know I see you as more than yours. I’m sorry. Enjoy the party.”

The door closed behind her and Nephrite was left in the hall, reeling from her reveal. Everything came into focus, all her dodgy comments, her sidestepped admissions…

He knew he needed to go inside and perform his diplomatic duties. He knew also that when they met again, no matter how they wished it, things would never be as simple as they were down on the surface of Jupiter. And yet, the stars continued their joyous opera. _Destiny_ , they whispered again and he allowed himself to believe that maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.


End file.
